Come Back To Me
by McColSHLoki
Summary: Cas is stranded and human, and finds himself cleaning his bloodstained clothes in a Laundromat, nestled in a town that Sam and Dean just happen to be passing on their search for him. (I apologize if i am inaccurate in anything and it might not link up to the SPN timeline exactly. Its really just my own little fantasy.) Romantic verging on smutty ;)


M.D. Iles A Destiel Fanfic: Come Back To You

Enjoy, do with this as you wish, share, follow, favourite, use it in anything. Love you all, just for reading it :)

Silence. Simple, mind numbing silence. It surrounded Cas, the kind of absence that makes your ears ring with it, the only kind of absence that comes with being the only person around, left with nothing but the clouds and thoughts of the past.

Blood covered his clothing, the dirty trench coat front stained with red, as was his shirt and jacket. He was human now, and after the dissatisfying, disgruntled feeling of being unable to do anything about his attire, he had found himself outside of a small strip mall, the beaming fluorescent sign of a Laundromat staring at him. The buzzing sign glared at him, telling him that it was closed, though a few lights still were on in the building. Well, he was human now, and what he couldn't do punched him in the gut.

Mindlessly, he walked up to the stairs to the building, a hand on the door, checking to see if it was locked. To his utter surprise and relief, it wasn't. Brushing the usual paranoia off, he entered, looking around at the machines, silent and waiting, when he realized he had no idea of how to work them.

Alone. He had never been so alone before. Truly. Well, not entirely true, but nonetheless, this was the first time he had no knowledge of everything, unable to live how he had lived his entire life. He was reborn and helpless, a gangly little animal cut off from his mother and sent off into the world to experience the thing called life for the first time. And honestly, it was terrifying.

He was tempted to sink down against the door and sit, as his legs ached dully under him. But as he was beginning to succumb to the feeling, a scuffling erupted from the back of the store and up came a young, skinny teenage boy, his blond hair falling into his eyes, the Laundromat uniform in his hands. He skittered to a stop as he saw the man standing at the door, his overcoat hanging loosely about him, shoulders stooped slightly, hair messy and stubble lining his face, a shadow hanging about him. And as he took in the man's appearance, he blanched.

"Umm… can I help you?" he asked nervously, stock still where he stood. He took a hesitant step forward, still unable to fully see the man.

"Uh, yes. I believe so." came the gruff voice. "I need to use one of these machines."

The boy frowned at this, confused. "O…kay? We're closed right now though."

"I need to use one of the machines." Cas stated again.

The boy knit his brow together. "Yes, I know that. But we're closed. Could you come back tomorrow?"

"I need to use one of the machines." He insisted. The boy looked about, a look of fear beginning to take over his face. "Well, okay then, just go ahead. I'm done here."

The boy started to make his way for the door behind Cas when he caught the man's full appearance, blood smeared clothes and all.

"Well, shit man. What are you, a murderer?" he said uneasily.

"No." Cas said tiredly. "I had an, er, acciedent." The boy just grimaced and nodded, trying to make his way around the man. Cas stuck out a hand, stopping the boy. "How do you work the machines?"

The boy staggered. "What? How do you not…?" He gave an exasperated sigh, "The instructions are on the things. They cost $1.50. Let me guess," he said, stopping Cas as he opened his mouth again "You don't have any money." Cas gave an apologetic face as the boy rummaged in his pockets, the jingling coins coming up and placing them in Cas' hand. "Don't mention it. Just… lock the place when you leave, ok? Leave the keys under the deck." He left quickly, dropping the keys at the door. Cas turned his head, looking out the closing door as the boy shuffled down the stairs and out of sight.

"Thank you."

He made his way over to a random machine in the middle of one of the rows and stood there. He stared at it for a while, looking at the instructions. Quickly and numbly, he shrugged out of his trench coat, crumpling it and throwing it into the belly of the metal container, the rest of his clothes following, stepping out of his boots until he was standing there in nothing but his cotton boxers, placing his bundle of clothes in the washer. He managed to get the beast working, the rumbling and sloshing of it saying it was working. He didn't move for a while, simply staring at the moving metal, hearing the whirring and tumbling of his clothes being tossed around as he searched inside his new human form, feeling around at the gaping hole the Winchester's absence had made.

Well, not specifically the Winchesters exactly, more like one of them: Dean. Dean, he missed him greatly and he found he couldn't do anything but stand there staring at the growling thing as flashes of Dean danced through his mind, hurting him, making him long for the man, just to be near to him, to hear him telling him to stop popping up behind him, to mind his personal space, to hear his prayers.

Eventually the machine signalled its end, and Cas had no idea how long he had been standing there, but he honestly could care less. He reached down and opened up the belly, dragging out the sopping clothes and bringing them over to a dryer, fumbling with the knobs and dials until he could hear the whirring of it, a noise he assumed went along with the thing doing its job. He didn't know what he would do now, but as he stood there, he noticed, through his pain of missing Dean, that he was weary, tired and, oddly, hungry. But this was a Laundromat, and there wasn't much he could do about anything as he had nothing but himself.

He could hear the door open, the quiet creak of the hinges, but he didn't bother looking up for a while, until he heard a small strangled sound.

"Cas?"

His head slowly turned to face the stranger with the warm home of a voice. And there he was; Dean. He was so present in his thoughts that perhaps he had imagined the man there, standing in his jacket, and jeans, his black t-shirt under his button down, his deep gravelly voice a safe haven of his own mind. But maybe not, for the man that stood there in the door, his hands loosely wrapped on a gun, stared at him with such longing that he had never before seen, not even in his day dreams. His tongue did funny things, not allowing him to speak, though he somehow managed to loosen it for two choice words.

"Hello Dean."

The gun clattered to the ground and suddenly Dean was striding towards Cas. Suddenly, Dean's strong, callused hands were cupping Cas' face, brining it close, so close. Closer yet and then, their lips met and they were backed up against the working machine, his boxers the only layer between him and the cold metal, as well as Deans jeans, his bare skin pressed up against his layers.

Finally his lips were working and they moved against Deans in slow experience, soon matching pace and passion. Finally, he pulled away, creating a small space between him and Dean's swollen lips.

"Dean…"

"God, I missed you Cas." Dean pressed his face up against Cas' again, stopping any words he might have tried to speak, deleting them from his memory. They were immediately lost in the perfect synchronization of their lips against the other, Deans tongue tracing the inside of Cas' mouth. He pushed Cas up against the vibrating machine, forcing him to slide up onto it, leaning into him. Cas put his hands on Deans shoulders, pushing the green jacket off his body, Dean dropping his hands momentarily, permitting its fall. The loose button down soon followed until Dean and Cas were a mixture of kisses and dropping clothes. They still kissed, their lips never parting, heads angling as to permit their affections in larger quantities, Deans hands moving all over Cas; from being tangled in his hair desperately, to trailing up and down Cas' back, sending immeasurably beautiful shocks through his body.

Cas dropped his hands from Deans neck, sliding them up under his black t-shirt, splaying his fingers across the smooth, muscled skin of his stomach. Dean emitted a low guttural moan, pressing himself ever so closer to the angel-made-man, his legs directly on the machine under Cas, his legs wrapped loosely around Dean's. Slowly, Cas worked his hands from Dean's stomach, trailing them and placing them on Deans back before letting them subtly drop to his waist line, fingers resting on the elastic of his underwear that was showing above his jeans, softly pushing at them.

Dean nipped at Cas' lower lip, bringing it between his teeth, making him gasp. Cas let his hand slip down between the jeans and underwear, before bringing it back up and slipping it under Dean's underwear, cupping Dean's ass. Without warning, Cas was sucking cold air, lips swollen and blue eyes wide as Dean pulled away from his lips, trailing hot kisses down his neck, shoulders, chest, stomach. His eyes fluttered closed, his one hand that was clutching the black t-shirt brining the material up Dean's back, until Dean stopped for mere seconds as he grabbed the shirt and lifted it from his body, letting it fall like the rest. He resumed his position on Cas' neck, their bare bodies flush against the other.

Somehow, though not surprisingly, Cas was lying face up on the machines, the working one placed under his lower back, shaking his body as Dean positioned himself, their lips together again with no foreseeable future of parting, his legs on either side of his body, straddling him, one hand on Cas' bare stomach while the other clutched his hair. After a while of this, Deans jeans becoming undone and sliding down his arse, Cas feebly tried to pull away, separating their faces marginally, speaking onto Dean's lips.

"We need to talk, Dean." He could feel Dean laugh under his hands, the sound entrancing, and the motion adding to the war of vibrations.

"Maybe later, but right now, you're _my_ little bitch."

Outside sat the Impala, Sam inside of it just waiting for Dean. They had been passing through the town when they stopped for gas, planning on leaving right away after learning that Cas was nowhere about. But as Dean stood there, filling up the car, he noticed a man standing in the Laundromat across the way, alone and just staring at one of the machines, before moving, taking the clothes out of the machine and moving out of sight to another row.

Dean had ordered Sammy to stay there and finish filling baby up while he checked it out, ignoring Sam's protests as he charged off to the building. Sighing and muttering a few complaints and insults, he filled up the car and paid with one of the various credit cards before driving it over to the Laundromat.

It had been about five minutes since Dean had entered the place, and another five as Sam sat outside. There was no sign of him coming out, as he couldn't see anything from the angle he was at. Shaking his head Sam got out of the Impala and headed towards the building, tucking a gun into his pants. But as he made his way quietly up the stairs, he caught the full view of the place and stuttered to a stop, the windows unshaded and the light inside permitting a good look of the place.

There was Dean, a pile of clothes on the floor, kneeling on the machines, another man with dark, messy hair sitting up against him, his bare back facing the door. Their faces angled and pressed up against the other, kissing passionately and furiously, Deans hands all over him; one curled into the man's hair and another lying on the top of white boxers that were pulled down to show a fair amount of ass.

Suddenly, the dark haired man seemed to push Dean away and then they sat there, staring deeply at each other, breathing heavy. Messy hair reached out a hand and cupped Dean's face, Dean seeming to say something, smiling briefly before backing off of the man and stepping down onto the floor, in nothing but his underwear, the handprints on his shoulders gleaming in the Laundromat light, and the man did the same, half ways facing the door as he opened up the machine they had just gotten off of. And there was no mistaking who it was as Sam caught his profile: it was Cas.

He staggered back down the steps, wishing his eyes to bleach the memory from his brain. He found himself back in the Impala, blankly staring, horrified, out the wind shield.

Sure, he had seen many, many things, but nothing would ever compare to seeing his brother in any kind of 'romantic' situation, let alone with Cas. Not that he hadn't seen this coming, but… fuck.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the buildings front door open, Dean jogging towards the Impala, hair askew, eyes bright. Sam didn't bother looking up and Dean took advantage of it, thinking Sam didn't notice anything as he still tried to tidy himself up, attempting to make himself as normal as possible. He quickly opened the door and poked his head in.

"Hey, Sammy. Found Cas!" Slowly, Sam turned his head to face Dean.

"Oh, trust me, I know. I will never not… know." He dazedly, meeting his brother's face. He watched as the colour that was already in his cheeks flame up, making his freckled face the brightest red he had ever seen, his bright green eyes standing out against his pallor.

"Son of a bitch. You… saw?" he choked out. Sam nodded stiffly.  
"Something you need to tell me, Dean?" Dean's mouth hung open, clambering for words. Sam rolled his eyes at him. "Oh, come one. As if I hadn't seen it coming." he said, loosening up. "Just… it wasn't something I wanted to see." Dean swallowed and nodded as the door to the Laundromat opened and closed, Cas loosely dressed, hair more messed up than usual, locking the door. He headed down the stairs, stooping at the bottom and dropping something under the deck. Dean gave a small look back at him before turning back.

"Get over. I'm driving."

"Oh, really?" Sam taunted. "I thought you'd want to be in the back, with Cas."

"Shut up." Dean muttered as he closed the door, Sam laughing heavily, moving over.

Cas slid into the back seat, shutting the door behind him before positioning himself awkwardly.

"Hello Sam."

"Hello to you, too, Cas. How are you doing?" Sam replied, trying, unsuccessfully, to keep his voice normal, earning a good hit in the gut from his brother.

"Better." came Cas' answer, sparing a glance towards Dean.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, happy reunion. Come on. Let's go find a motel, Cas' is probably exhausted." Dean growled, driving away from the Laundromat.

"I would think so." Sam snorted. "Do you two want me to get my own room?"

Dean glared at him menacingly. "Bitch."

Cas opened his mouth before closing it again, staring out the window, a smirk on his face while Sam laughed silently in the front seat: it might just be alright again.


End file.
